The Morning After

Jensen had never been all that good at handling his alcohol.  This was one thing that was known as a universal truth.  So it was rather important that when he did decide to drink, someone stuck with him, at least until he passed out.  That way he didn't do anything to get himself arrested, hurt, or killed.  However, one thing none of the Losers could stop him from doing, regardless of his state of sobriety, was keep him from saying something stupid.

This was also known as a universal truth.

And about as futile as trying to stop a force of nature.

So when he did get drunk off his ass, it would usually end with a story that the Losers could laugh at for a long time afterwards.  Jensen was ok with this. He didn't mind being a source of humor in their usually depressing lifestyle of being stuck where they were: with crappy jobs, hotel rooms, and no family to go home to. But there were a few times, just a few, when Jensen wished he'd just shut his damn mouth.

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Jensen woke up that morning, the same as most other mornings: face down in his bed, opening his eyes to stare at the gaudy floral print of the hotel sheets.  What was different about this morning from the others, was that he could see Cougar on the bed next to him. The other man was fully clothed (thank God, that would have been weird otherwise) and sitting propped up against the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest, and his hat pulled down over his eyes, apparently still sleeping.  Jensen's hangover kicked in not too long after that particular observation. He groaned quietly, and clapped a hand over his eyes to ward off the sunlight that had been making his blinding headache even worse.  A second after that, the nausea hit, and he rolled over on the bed with an intent to make a mad dash for the toilet, only to make it to the edge of the mattress before throwing up into a conveniently placed trash can.

Jensen realized four things at that moment:
1. Someone had put that trashcan there for that exact reason.
2. Someone had apparently helped him back to his room last night.
3. Cougar was most likely that someone.
4. Cougar was laughing at him.

Granted, he had been slightly involved in reliving everything he had eaten in the last two days, but he could still hear the man's faint, deeply amused, chuckle over his own noise. He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, before closing his eyes and slowly, gently, turning over onto his back.

He didn't even have to look at the smug bastard to know Cougar was smirking in the way that meant Jensen had done something particularly stupid and/or amusing. He sighed, " Are you going to tell me, or do I have to ask?"

"Ask what?"

That rat-bastard.

" 'Ask what?' What do you mean, 'Ask what?'? What the Hell happened last night?"

"Wich part, amigo? You had a particularly eventful evening." He could hear Cougar getting off the bed and moving around the room as he spoke, running water, and footsteps nearing the bed again.  A second later a cool, wet, rag dropped onto his face.

"What, really?" He sighed gratefully as he folded the rag and placed it over his eyes. More footsteps, more running water, footsteps again. Then a jean clad knee gently nudged his elbow, and he lifted a corner of the rag to see Cougar (glorious, amazing, merciful, Cougar) standing over him holding a glass of water and some aspirin. He smiled, and sat up against the headboard, "You, sir, are a God among men. Amen. Praise be to Cougar." He tilted his glass in salute before partaking of the wonderful Elixir of life known only as pain killers.  Cougar just chuckled again, and shook his head before waiting for Jensen to continue their conversation.  After all, the boy could talk enough for the both of them. "Well, I don't seem to remember much past the bar."

"Wich bar?"  He pushed Jensen's legs over and sat down at the foot of the bed.

"There was more than one?" This time Cougar laughed outright. Jensen just sighed again, pressing his fingers to his temples, and tried to remember something, anything, from the night before. "Uh…Pepittoe's? …Pepper's?…Prada's?"

"Papi's."

"That's it! That's the one. Papi's."

Cougar chuckled again, shook his head again, smirked again.  And at that point, Jensen realized that last night's story was going to top anything he had done in the past.

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Jensen sighed, and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.  With the way Cougar reacted he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear what had gone on, but figured it was best to figure out the whole story now, just incase he had to do any apologizing or make sure to stay away from someone for a while. "So?  Tell me all the gory details.  Give it to me straight, Dr. Coug, how long do I have left to live before someone breaks down the door and tries to kill me?"

Cougar smiled again, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"… four beers, four Tequila shots, two shots of Jack, and …yeah, that's all I got. Oh, wait! I do remember this hot little chica in red dress."

Cougar had to look away and cover his mouth to keep from laughing in Jensen's face. "That was a cross dresser." He took a deep breath to keep from laughing again, "But in your defense, she was rather convincing."

"Wow, ok. Well. That's a first. What happened with her?… Him?…Her? Whatever. What happened?"

"Just a typical conversation between you and any other woman. I believe you unintentionally said something rather offensive, because she bought a drink, just to pour it on you."

"Me stuff, then?"

"Si."

Jensen wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, and noticed something odd. "Why are there two black X's on my hands?"

" Ah, that was after Papi's. You still seemed rather lucid, so none of us objected when you suggested Chica's Locos."

Jensen removed the wet rag from his from his head and half heartedly tried scrubbing the dried marker off.  He looked so pathetic Cougar took pity on him. He grabbed the rag from Jensen's hand, walked to the sink again, re-wet it, and added soap.  "The strip club down the street."

"Si. Considering your recent failure with the cross dresser, we didn't think you would be so eager to do something else that foolish that soon."  He walked back over to the bed,  sat down next to Jensen's thighs, grabbed his left hand, and began gently scrubbing away the marks.

"So… I started drawing on myself?" The Spaniard's hands holding his own felt oddly intimate and comforting at the same time. He leaned back and closed his eyes again, silently praying that nothing had been drawn on his face.

"You got cut off after a stripper leaned over in front of you and you screamed 'I can see your soul from here!' into her cleavage."

"Damnit, I wish I could remember that."

Cougar just ducked his head down, pretending to be concentrating on the task of cleaning up his teammate, but really using the brim of his hat to cover his smile. "Clay and Pooch tried to take you back to the hotel after that but you got away from them for five minutes.  They found you sitting in an empty garbage can, back outside the club.  You kept telling everyone you  were trashed."

"See? And Roque tells me I'm not funny. I'm funny. I am damn funny!" Jensen couldn't help but laugh at himself as Cougar finished with his left hand and moved on to the right. "Wait, I think I remember this part.  At least, the part after the trashcan thing I mean.  Clay handed me off to someone else. That was you wasn't it? I think it was. Then I tried hitting on someone smoking hot, and-"

"Me."

Jensen's head snapped up and his eyes flew open, "You. 'You' what? I hit on you? Really? Damn, ummm…I…really?  I'm sorry? I swear I didn't realize it was you. You know how hammered I was. Really. Sorry." He abruptly tried to pull his hands away, suddenly uncomfortable with the contact, but the Spaniard just gripped his fingers tighter and continued his work.  

Cougar glanced up at the uncomfortable man and just smiled slowly. "Don't worry about it, amigo. I've gotten compliments on my eyes before, and you were nothing if not flattering. For the record though, you don't sound all that sorry."

"Well, I am."

"You shouldn't be.  As I said, you were very flattering, especially considering how smashed you were.  I don't see why you have such trouble with women, amigo." Cougar, having finished  removing the ink from his teammate, tossed the rag into the sink, and braced himself with one hand on the other side of Jensen's legs.

Jensen smiled and leaned back again, damn happy that there was no awkwardness between the two of them. He was also damn happy that the pain killers were starting to kick in.  He laced his fingers over his stomach, and cracked one eye open. "So. Then what happened?"

"Clay decided it was time for you to go home after that, but before I got you out of the club, you got away again.  Apparently, you found your way back to the bar, and started hitting on Clay this time."

"I didn't." Jensen brought a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose. That headache was coming back.

"You did, amigo. But he seemed rather receptive to the entire thing."

"What?"

"Well, he didn't seem to mind the kiss at all.  In fact, it looked like you were both rather enjoying yourselves."

Jensen's entire body froze up, "Be kind, rewind.  What? I… I kissed Clay. Um, alright. I might just believe that. But Clay didn't, like, deck me or anything? Wow. Must have dodged a bullet there. How trashed was he?"

"To my knowledge? He wasn't.  After all, he did have the good sense to gently push you back to me with a pat on the ass, and promise to remember it from now on."

"Well, that's wonderful. I'm gonna have to avoid him for a few days. What next? Did I try to seduce  Pooch? What about Roque? No, wait. If I hit on Roque I probably wouldn't be alive right now. Alright, so how bad did I embarrass myself after that? Please tell me that's all. Even if you have to lie to me. Just tell me I suddenly came to my senses and walked calmly back to the hotel.  Tell me this, please."

"Almost. Now, do you remember anything else?"

"Not really, no. I think I remember coming back to the room, then I remember talking a lot-" Cougar could have interjected that this particular memory could have come from any point in Jensen's existence. Ever. But he didn't. "but I don't remember you responding at all, so it must have been something about computers. Sorry for techno babbling so much, I know you all hate it when I talk tech."

"Que? Amigo, you sat on the sofa staring at your fingerprints for an hour and the only word that came out of your mouth was 'How?'"

Jensen just put his face in his hands and gave a slightly demented giggle, "Alright. And then?"

Cougar looked away again, then back to the techie with a smile that Jensen would have described as damn sexy, "You started to doze off, so I moved you to the bed, before I could pull away-"

"Don't tell me I got grabby hands with you again. I did didn't I? I knew it. I'm sorry. Again. Forgive me? Please?" Jensen's face was bright red, and he whined, as he clasped his hands in front of him in  praying position.  From the almost shy smile and faint blush he received from Cougar, the techie could tell he was right. "Alright. So I did something worse than feel you up didn't I? I'm sor…ry?" Cougar had grabbed a hold of his clasped hands, and pushed them back down into Jensen's lap.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you have no reason to keep apologizing? You did. Nothing. Wrong. Do not be ashamed." He reached up with his free hand and gently traced the side of Jensen's jaw before holding the other man's chin between a thumb and forefinger. "It was nothing I did not want." He traced his thumb over Jensen's bottom lip before leaning in, and giving the younger man a slow, sweet kiss.

For the first time in a very long time, Jensen's mind came to a screeching halt. His body reacted by moving one arm up around Cougar's shoulders, and the other resting gently on the snipers bicep. But his mind was still stuck in first gear because, holy shit, this was Cougar, and…kissing, and it was fucking amazing, and it was Cougar.   That last thought slammed home just in time for his mind to catch up with his body and he had to push the Spaniard away abruptly, as a combination of  nerves (he was kissing Cougar) and the hangover kicked in at the same time, to make use of the trash can again. Cougar just rubbed his back until the dry heaving subsided and Jensen sat back up.  Cougar's hand moved to his shoulder, and for a moment he just smiled before getting up and crossing the room, to the door, "Brush your teeth and shower. Then meet me downstairs."

"Why, what's happening now? Are you gonna drag me around town  to apologize for my behavior?" Jensen was still nauseous, but that kiss had given him more than enough of a jumpstart to get out of bed and head for the bathroom.  He jumped as a strong arm wrapped around his waist from behind and a deep, incredibly sexy hum sounded in his ear.

"No, mi amor. I'm taking you out to lunch. You can appologize for your actions later tonight after I take you out and show you off a bit.  And this time I'll make sure you remember it." Jensen shivered as a light kiss was placed on the side of his neck, and he had to grab hold of the sink to keep his knees from buckling when Cougar's free hand grabbed his ass. But he did not whimper, God Damnit! He didn't.  Must have been a rat or something, because he did not whimper.  Their eyes met in the bathroom mirror, and Cougar's smirk did make him whimper this time.  With another quick pat to Jensen's ass, the sniper turned to leave the room, "Check your mini fridge when you go looking for your keys."

"Why is my room key in my mini fridge?"

"You said 'This is really going to confuse me tomorrow.' Apparently, drunk you plays pranks on hung-over you." He could hear the other man's voice getting farther away, and the sound of the door opening.

"This explains so much." All heard was Cougar's echoing laughter just before the door slammed shut.